


The 'Diplomatic' Mission / Thorin’s No Good, Very Bad Plan And Its Surprising Outcome

by Mont_Girl_Of_Lumatere



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: A summary of this silly fic in 5 tags, Dancing, Diplomacy, Drinking, F/M, Fígrid February, Goats, Seduction, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mont_Girl_Of_Lumatere/pseuds/Mont_Girl_Of_Lumatere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli smiled half-heartedly, then sighed and straightening up. "What exactly do you need me to do?"</p><p>Thorin clasped his hands together. "I need you to go to Dale and seduce the Princess Sigrid; ensure that she does not accept any proposals from her southern suitors."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 'Diplomatic' Mission / Thorin’s No Good, Very Bad Plan And Its Surprising Outcome

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended on posting this ON the Diplomatic missions day, but I've been caught up organising my trip to NZ (next week!) and working.  
> But here it is at last, and I make no apologies for how ridiculous it seems :)
> 
> PS: It is a truth universally acknowledged (by me) that each of Bard's children inherited his incredible aim.

 

            "You cannot be serious!" Fíli exclaimed, staring incredulously at his uncle.

 

            Thorin's eyes narrowed from where he sat aloft upon the throne. "Why would I joke about a matter such as this?"

 

            Fíli began pacing before the raised dais, pulling his hand through his hair as his mind furiously searched for an alternative. "We could offer them a deal; double our output of market goods, or even reduce the-"

 

            "Or," Thorin interrupted him. "You could perform this simple duty and prevent Erebor from having to compete with the trade prices offered by other kingdoms." 

 

            Fíli slumped down on the dais steps, twisting around to look up at his uncle. "There's no other way?"

 

            Thorin lifted himself from the throne, the heavy furs of his cape making a dull thud as they hit the polished floor, then descended to sit beside his nephew. "It was suggested that we facilitate an unfortunate injury to the suitor." 

 

            Fíli's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Nori made the suggestion?”

 

            "Naturally.”

 

            Fíli smiled half-heartedly, then sighed and straightening up. "What exactly do you need me to do?"

 

            Thorin clasped his hands together. "I need you to go to Dale and seduce the Princess Sigrid; ensure that she does not accept any proposals from her southern suitors."

 

            Pressing a hand to his temple, Fíli frowned. "And you certain that will work? She is a daughter of Men after all."

 

            Thorin waved a hand dismissively. "You are both thinking, feeling, talking beings; there is little more to attraction than that. And if your brother’s stories are to be believed; you are more than capable of the task.”

 

            Fíli was not completely convinced, but he decided not to press the matter. "If I am to do this, I have one condition;" he looked his uncle steadily in the eye. "If it seems that the Princess Sigrid could find true happiness with any of her suitors then I will not interfere."

 

Thorin's forehead furrowed, but he nodded.

 

            "Right then, I guess I'm off to Dale." Fíli stood up.

 

            "Not quite." Thorin interjected, also getting to his feet. "You can't expect to woo a Princess looking like that." He eyed Fíli's muddy boots and well-worn furs.

 

 

 

Fíli was soon to be found standing atop a stool, his arms outstretched as Dori pinned and fitted him for a new tunic of wine maroon and gold stitching.

 

            "It's not funny." He glowered, as Kíli doubled over with laughter in the corner. "I need your help! I don't know how to seduce a woman!"

 

Kíli opened up his mouth to speak but was overcome with a fresh wave of laughter.

 

            "Useless." Fíli muttered in disgust.

 

            Dori clicked his tongue, directing Fíli to lift his arm. "Any woman, regardless of her race, likes to be wooed." He instructed. "You must endeavour to make her feel special; listen to what she says, and show her you care. I find that it's the little details that go a long way; gifts, favours, thoughtful trinkets and the like." His tongue stuck out between his teeth as he carefully threaded a stitch in the left sleeve.

 

            "Have you a dwarrowdam you wish to tell us about, Dori?" Kíli asked, coming over from the corner to stand beside the dwarf, arms folded.

 

            Dori's cheeks flushed. "Nothing I would care to mention to either of you!"

 

            Kíli’s eyes glinted. "I think he does, Fí."

 

            "Who is she, Dori?" Fíli teased.

 

            "I'd wager she's a Firebeard."

 

            "Nay, definitely Ironfo- Ouch!"  Fíli jerked his arm away from where the needle had struck. Glaring, he rubbed his arm as Dori smugly tied off the thread. 

 

            At that moment, Dwalin stuck his head around the corner. "What's going on in 'ere?"

 

            "Fíli needs our advice on how to seduce a woman." Kíli replied.

 

            "Aye, that’d be the Dragon Slayer’s daughter?"

 

Fíli nodded mutely as he was turned about on the spot by Dori.

 

            Dwalin leant against the door. "Listen ‘ere lad, women are like wars, they need to be won."

 

            "I’ve never heard such nonsense in my life!" Dori snapped, spinning around to face Dwalin. "You speak about females as if they need conquering."

 

            “I never said a word about conquering! Yer need to earn her; prove you can defend her!”

 

            “What rubbish.” Dori pointed at Fíli. "You are finished." Then turned back to Dwalin and they continued to bicker.

 

 

With his goat saddled and his hair tidied by his mother's meticulous hand, Fíli made to depart for Dale.

 

            "You have the advantage of knowing her already whereas her suitors will be strangers; use that.” Kíli advised as Fíli mounted up. “Everyone else will be trying to impress her with their wealth and treasures; trying to prove themselves a prize worthy of her kingdom. You need to make her feel like _she_ is the prize.” He looked his brother up and down with a critical eye. “A bit of the old Durin charm wouldn’t hurt either.”

 

Fíli snorted at his brother. "I'm going to Dale to distract her; not to make her fall in love with me!”

 

With that, he departed.

 

 

 

It began in the fields between the gates.

 

Fíli had almost reached the city of Dale when he spied a figure in the far distance taking the west path towards the Lake from Dale, a wicker basket tucked under her arm as she cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. The figure wore a simple grey cloth dress with a brown clincher, and in passing he might have thought her only a farmer’s daughter. But she was entirely given away by the object wrapped around her shoulders.

 

Fíli grinned to himself and nudged his steed towards the distant figure. He would know that blue scarf anywhere; she had gifted it to him all those years ago in Laketown, and he had made a point of returning it.

 

Sigrid slipped between the blossoming trees of the crab-apple orchard that had sprouted in the now fertile valley between Dale and the Lake, and he pressed forwards to catch up with her. But as he approached the close set trees, he realised that could not see her through the branches. He found himself having to duck his head to avoid branches weighed down by the fruit they bore.

 

As he lifted his head from under another, a dagger buried itself in the ground directly between the two front hoofs of his goat. It reared backwards on its hind hoofs and Fíli had to cling on for dear life, unable to reach for his own dagger as he scanned about for his attacker, heart pounding.

 

            “Fíli?”

 

He looked up, and there between the trees stood a visibly alarmed Sigrid, another dagger in her hand, poised to launch.

 

            He sighed in relief, regaining his balance. “Do you throw daggers at all your visitors?” he called.

 

            Sigrid lowered her blade with a grin. “Only those who follow me into an orchard without announcing themselves!” She stowed it in a sheath at her wrist and bent to retrieve her dropped basket. “What are you doing here, Fíli?”

 

He ran a hand through his now tousled hair.

_So, this was where the lying would begin._

 

            “My uncle sent me to observe diplomatic relations between Dale and Erebor.” He recited.

 

Sigrid’s eyes narrowed, which set Fíli’s heart racing.

 

_She knew he was lying. She could tell. She would hate him. Thorin would be disappointed in him. Bard would, in all likelihood, kill him._

 

            Then Sigrid laughed. “Oh the obligations of royal life.”

 

She took a step towards him but his goat skited backwards, wary of the girl with the daggers at her wrist. Sigrid hesitated.

 

            “Whoa there.” Fíli dismounted, making soft soothing noises as he secured the rope and harness.

 

            “I’m sorry about that.” Sigrid said tentatively. “Is he alright?”

 

            “She.” Fíli corrected, looked up. “She’ll be alright. She’s seen her share of battle, but she’ll forgive you anything if you get on her good side.”

 

Sigrid looked dubious, watching as the heavy hooves kicked up clumps of dirt.

 

            “Would you like to say hello?” He asked. “She won’t bite.” He held out his hand to Sigrid.

 

Sigrid bit her lip but stepped forwards. The goat eyed her uncertainly as she did.

 

Taking her hand and noting how small yet sturdy it felt in his, Fíli gently led Sigrid forwards until her palm rested on the shaggy coat, his hand atop hers.

 

            Sigrid laughed nervously at the sensation of the strangely waxy fur beneath her fingers. “Does she have a name?”

 

            “Halvar. It means Defender of the Rock _.”_

_She was so close to him. He could have counted the light freckles speckled like a constellation across her nose._

He began moving his hand, guiding hers underneath his in small circles towards the back of the goat’s neck. He wondered if he imagined Sigrid’s small intake of breath.

 

Halvar made a noise of satisfaction in the back of her throat and tossed her head.

 

            “She likes you.” Fíli said softly.

 

            “Of course she does.” Sigrid cooed at the goat. “You’re not scary at all, are you?”

 

Halvar bleated loudly.

 

Sigrid laughed, giving a hearty rub and then stepping backwards and dusting her hand on her dress.

 

Fili’s fell empty by his side.

 

A light breeze lifted the blossom petals from the trees and cast them about on the crisp wind like a thousand tiny butterflies. They began walking through the orchard and exchanging their news, stopping occasionally to pluck crab-apples from the branches while Fíli leading Halvar beside them.

 

By nature, Fíli had never been one for the sun and the open air, but there was something different about this, something utterly serene…and perhaps beautiful.

 

 

 

It continued that evening.

 

            “You can only imagine the view from atop the outermost walls, Princess.” A southern suitor called from across the large dining table. “Mine is truly a city crafted from the very music of Eru himself.”

            “A grand claim to make when you compare it to _my_ city.” Boasted another.

 

With the ever growing concession of guests who made their way to visit the rebuilt Kingdom of Dale and pay their respects to its King, dinner was much more akin to a feast than a simple meal.

 

Bard had ceased attempting a polite smile before the second cask of wine had been called for. Bain was practising twirling his knife about his fingers like a dagger, much to the disgruntlement of those beside him. Tilda had excused herself, complaining of an upset stomach, although Fíli had seen sugar biscuits crammed into her pockets as she left. But Sigrid seemed perfectly at ease with the situation. She spoke knowledgeably and laughed readily with her guests; the perfect princess and ambassador for Dale.

 

            Bain leant across his neighbour to whisper to Fíli. “Which one do you think will propose first?”

 

            Fíli snorted, looking down the table to where Sigrid sat, holding court. “Twenty coins on Rohan before the night is out.”

 

They shook on it.

 

But as the evening wore on, Fíli started to notice something; Sigrid was calling for more and more wine for the guests, yet she herself could not have taken more than a few sips. The men were getting louder and louder, debating the cultural superiority of their various cities such that they were too focused on what each other was saying and less concerned with Sigrid. As she turned to wave the attendant back over to refill their goblets, Sigrid caught Fíli watching her with raised eyebrows and winked, a sly grin playing on her lips.

 

Fíli could only shake his head in amazement. This Princess was a force to be reckoned with. And although she seemed to have the task at hand herself, if he was to ensure the success of his mission he would need to raise his own tactics to meet hers. At least, that was the rationalisation he gave himself for proceeding.

 

 

Soon after, one of the suitors got unsteadily to his feet and summoned a troupe of players from his own kingdom to perform. Tables were pushed against the walls as a lively tune was struck up and the man extended his hand to Sigrid for the first dance.

 

Fíli glowered as she took it.

 

It was some time later and Fíli watched as Sigrid navigated the drunken fumbles of her partner, who kept apologising profusely for treading on her feet. Decided that now was the opportune moment, he grabbed a goblet from the nearby table, drained it, and then strode forwards.

 

Just as Sigrid's partner spun her away from him, his grip slackened and her fingers slipped from his.

 

Sigrid span in a freefall for only a moment, and then Fíli was there, catching her hand in one of his and her waist in the other.

 

            "I hope you don't mind." He said, ignoring the protests from her disgruntled former partner.

 

            She looked surprised and relieved as she shook her head. "My feet thank you."

 

            Fíli laughed as they began to step in time together. "We both know that you might be somewhat to blame for that matter."

 

            "I don't know what you are talking about." She replied demurely. "I merely called for the wine to be poured, I never made them drink." But wry smile playing at her lips.

 

            He smirked. "And to what end did such an act of skulduggery achieve?"

 

v"It was a test."

 

Sigrid's dress swayed around them as the voices of those around them faded into the melody of the music.

 

            "You measure a man's character by how much he drinks?" He asked her curiously.

 

            "Only his intentions towards me." She countered.

 

The procession moved about the room in two circles, each rotating around the other, coming together and then gliding apart such that from above it might have seemed as if they were tracing the paths of the sun and the moon in the sky.

 

But Fíli could not take his eyes off of her. He watched the way her hair caught the light like gossamer gold, and the way her hazel eyes sparkled like light on water.

 

            "Why are you looking at me like that?" Sigrid asked curiously.

 

            "Because you are beautiful." He answered truthfully.

 

Sigrid's cheeks flushed and she looked away from him as they stepped backwards, turned to the right, and stepped forwards again.

 

As the music soared she twirled away in time with the other dancers, extending one hand until only a fingertip connected them. And as the sweet note hung in the air, Sigrid turned her head to look back at him. She had a way about her that spoke far louder, and pierced more intently than anyone else he had ever known. It was as liberating as it was terrifying.

Then the song continued again in earnest, and as she span back towards to him Fíli waited a second longer to catch her, so that when his hands found her waist again she was closer than ever before.

 

His heart beat faster at her slight intake of breath as her hands came to rest upon his chest. He paused, studying her face for a response.

 

            “Don’t stop.” She whispered breathlessly.

 

His hand tightened at her waist and they re-joined the formation of the other dancers.

 

Slowly the music began to shift to a new song and the partners around them began to swap and change. But when the time came for Sigrid to spin away for good, she did not let go.

 

            "I think we missed a step." Fíli said softly.

 

            "I think we're doing just fine." She replied, her gaze never leaving his.

 

 

Later that night, after a disgusted Bard had to call upon the guard to escort many of the visitors to their guest quarters, Fíli traced the path lazily back to his own.

 

He smiled to himself as he replayed their parting in his mind. The kiss he had brushed across her hand, the way she had looked back over her shoulder at him as she walked away.

He was still grinning like a fool as he slumped, fully dressed atop the covers of the oversized bed.

 

And just like, that Fili realised he had failed his task. For although Sigrid had indeed not accepted any proposals that night, somewhere throughout the day, and without him realising it, it was he who had been seduced by her.

 

The smile fell from his lips and he clapped his hands to his face as he began to realise just how much trouble he was in.

 

 


End file.
